


Pomegranates

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Pomegranates, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Symbolism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:01:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24437104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A fairytale unlike any other.For Chaotic Smutty'sCorona Challenge, In response to PestilencePrincess's One Word Prompt: Pomegranate.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 16
Kudos: 146
Collections: Corona Challenge





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [PestilencePrincess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PestilencePrincess/pseuds/PestilencePrincess) in the [CoronaChallenge](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/CoronaChallenge) collection. 



> A/N: I figured for a prompt containing only the word pomegranate, anyone else who decided to claim the prompt would likely go the Persephone route. I decided to write a story based in symbolism, and unfortunately what was meant to be a shirt 2,000 word prompt fill has turned into a horrific beast that I might one day have to convert into an original story to publish.
> 
> Pomegranates symbolize fertility, sex, luck, life, death, blood, power, prosperity, abundance, fire, air, feminine energy, rebirth, winter, the afterlife.
> 
> Warnings: Mild Underage Sex (in chapter 01 only and it's set in a medieval type of setting), War Violence, Blood, Death, Violent Story, Manipulation, Past Child Abuse, Pregnancy (briefly in last chapter).
> 
> Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter it would have had better lgbt+ representation and racial divergence.

Once upon a time there was a forever frozen kingdom of shadow and death. The dark kingdom spread far and wide, ruled by a fierce and cruel king who held the power to control shadows and raise the dead. Many kingdoms had fallen to the power of the king's armies, but in the king's greed and lust for power he desired to control all of the seven kingdoms.

To the south of the dark kingdom was the kingdom of light. Years ago the dark king had killed the beloved queen and king of the light kingdom and it had been ruled by their royal advisor, Albus Dumbledore, whose dislike for the dark king was well known. It was rumored the old advisor was the only one who still remembered the dark kings name, which was forgotten and forbidden to speak.

Albus Dumbledore had a secret though. He liked being king. He liked ruling the light kingdom. He believed that it was in the best interests of the kingdom if he stayed as the ruler, so, under the excuse of the danger posed by the dark king, he had the baby princess sent to live with the peasant relatives of the late queen, where he knew the princess would be mistreated, but where he knew she wouldn't be taught any of her royal duties due to Petunia's desire to appear normal. She had never told anyone of her relation to the late and beloved Queen Lily. It was for the best, he decided. He would come for Princess Hyacinth on her sixteenth birthday, when he could teach her, mold her in his image, and rule over her Kingdom from the background with the princess as the face.

Many years passed, but Dumbledore had forgotten one crucial detail. When someone is abused and mistreated, they will long for escape.

\--

It was nearly sunrise when Holly tiptoed through the cottage as quietly as she could, a small pack with all of her few beloved items slung over one shoulder. She didn't own much, but her few belongings meant the world to her. A set of clothes she made herself, too boyish to be polite, and a dress made from soft blue cloth that she had been given for her fifteenth birthday seven months earlier. A cloak of invisibility, given to her by an old gypsy woman who she had helped escape the dungeons, where she had been imprisoned for stealing food. A strange black ring with an odd symbol carved upon the stone, which she had been gifted by a faerie girl she had freed from an iron cage where her relatives caught her. Her last items had once belonged to her parents, a pair of long thin daggers with handles made of polished elder, the blades so black they seemed to suck in all the light around them, with garnets set into the wooden handles.

She had cut her hair short, dressed herself in soft leather breeches, knee high boots, and a soft baggy shirt. She looked like a boy, albeit one with a fair face, but that was the goal she had in mind. The dark knights would not accept a girl, especially one from the border village, but they would take a boy. Her uncle had sold her to the whore house to pay off his debts, they would be there to collect her in the morning, and Holly knew she needed to leave tonight or she would never escape the village. Her only salvation would be to leave the light Kingdom and become a knight in the dark kingdom, or to head to the light capital, Gryffindor, to beg the King reagent for an audience and hope he cared enough to spare her from such a fate. Seeking an audience with the king wasn't a guaranteed to work, but becoming a knight would give her diplomatic immunity 

She had grown in the village of Border, so named because it existed on the border of the dark kingdom. It was one of three such villages. Hogwarts in the East was the other city in the light Kingdom that resided on the border. In the dark kingdom there was only one, one hundred seventy miles west of Border, called Grimmauld. That was where she was headed. There she could hide until the dark knights came for taxes, where she would ask to become a knight.

Holly double checked her belongings, then quietly snuck out. She walked down the streets to her friend Hermione's house, where she sent a mental apology to the girl, before heading into the stables. If it weren't for Ronald, a noble boy who was courting Hermione, Holly might have asked her to come, but she couldn't ask her friend to abandon a boy she loved and a better life for her. Buckbeak, the old silvery grey stallion, gives an excited whinny when he saw her.

"Hey boy!" Holly pulled an apple from her sack and gave it to the horse as she untied him. "Wanna go for a ride?"

Buckbeak huffed at her. He nuzzled her head with his face and she giggled. Carefully, she put him in his saddle, then climbed up on his back, grateful the Mr. Granger had deemed to teach them both side saddle and regular riding. It wouldn't do for her to try to pass off as a boy while riding side saddle. Holly climbs up on his back and quietly leads him of the farm and across village to the low wall bordering forest of the dark kingdom. It will take her four days to reach Grimmauld. When Buckbeak leaps over the wall, she feels free for the first time in her life.

\--

When she finally stopped, her butt and thighs sore from the ride, they were thirty seven miles from Border, and she wouldn't have stopped if Buckbeak wasn't tired. Or perhaps she would have, eight hours in the saddle was horrible and she'd never rode longer that thirty minutes before. Her legs feel so sore she doesn't want to go any longer, but she has to set up camp.

It was hard to tell the time in the forest, the sky was cloudy and grey, and the air was getting cold. The farther they traveled, the closer they got to Grimmauld, the colder the weather became and The more clouds covered The sun. The dark kingdom was cursed, so the legends told, cast into an endless winter in the same way the light kingdom was said to be blessed with eternal summer. Holly had never been to the warmer cities, nor to the turquoise seas. Border was the coldest city in the light kingdom, surrounded by trees, on the border of the forbidden forest.

Though the forest was part of the dark kingdom, the villagers knew not to hunt in the forest. Hunting in the forbidden forest without the dark king's permission was grounds for execution. Holly had no desire to hunt though. She didn't eat meat, it seemed cruel. Vernon was a butcher, she'd seen and touched enough dead animals in her life. She only wished to rest, to eat, and to bathe. None of which was illegal to her knowledge.

She set a fire and cooked herself a small vegetable pie for dinner, then repacked her supplies in Buckbeak's saddlebag so her belongings didn't crush the remaining pies. Finished and full, she bathed herself in the cold river before dressing herself again. Holly set up her thin blanket and laid her head on her pack to take a short nap. She dreamed that Vernon came after her and dragged her to the Whore house, where faceless men grabbed at her and tore off her clothes, laughing while she screamed. When she woke it was still light, but it was nearly dark and she was shivering and cold. The sky was pink and purple through the trees, and Buckbeak was no where to be found.

\--

Two days later, Holly still hadn't found Buckbeak, but she'd never been good at hunting and tracking. Her search had cost her several days she could have been using to get closer to Grimmauld. It was snowing heavily and, even dressed in both sets of clothes, she was freezing. She kept debating if she should put her dress on too, but the risk of being seen in it was enough to deter her from taking it out of the pack.

She tripped over a tree root, dropping her pack, and yelped as pain shot up her leg. With a splash she fell into the freezing river. Water was everywhere. In her eyes, her mouth, soaking through her clothes like ice. She tried to fight to get her head over the water, but the current tugged her down.

Everything went black.

\--

When Holly opened her eyes she was staring at the sky, inky void black above her. It confused her for a moment because it had been morning, but then the sky started to separate and form into two circles. Eyes, she soon realized, she was not staring at the night sky but a pair of black eyes. The sky was the same cloudy grey as earlier. Water dripped onto her forehead and she realized that the man leaning over her was soaking wet, water dripping from curls as dark as his eyes, and running down skin pale like porcelain. She could hear him speak, but the words sounded muffled, as if she was still under water.

The man frowned and helped her sit up. Then he pressed a cup to her lips. Something warm and sour-sweet filled her mouth, and she forces herself to drink slow, oddly parched despite having nearly drowned, the liquid filling her with warmth. All the while the man rubbed her back and spoke in a soothing deep voice. She didn't recognize the language, but it had a lot of S's and th's which almost made it sound like he was hissing.

He pulled the warm drink away from her mouth and Holly shivered. Her throat still felt raw. "Thank you." She said in a croaking voice, coughing when she was done.

"You don't have to thank me, anyone else would have fished you out of the river in my place." The man responded in a low southern accent.

He was from farther in the kingdom then, on the border there were no accents, everything mixed up between the two. There was no distinguishing between the smooth deep accent of the south or the mild lilting tones on the north men. Sirius, a merchant who had moved from Grimmauld to Border, had the same mixed accent that she did, though he favored the pale skin of the dark kingdom to the sunny tan of the northerners who would visit. The light Kingdom was famed for dark brown skin and freckles, where the dark was known for pale skin and hair either too dark or too light. Holly had always fit in better to the appearance of the dark kingdom, one of the reasons she had chosen to head to Grimmauld instead of Hogwarts.

"What we're you doing in there anyways?" He asked. "Don't you know it's forbidden to swim in the river this close to the border. Too many people have died."

Holly shook her head. "I apologize, I was never told." She said, "And I tripped over a tree root and fell in if you must know."

He laughed then, a sweet startled sound like he didn't laugh often. It lit up his whole face. "You're something else." He smiled. His teeth were perfectly straight and sharp.

A snowflake fell down and Holly caught it on her tongue.

\--

The man helped her limp to the nearest shelter, an old cave about a mile away, where his steed was apparently already resting, or so he'd said but she didn't see one, and started setting up a fire. Holly was shivering, cold as the snow. Her fingers were cold. The man struggled to start the fire, letting out a stream of hissing that she did not have to understand to know that he was cursing. She gently took the flint and steel from his gloved fingers and smiled as she got it to spark in one strike. The fire roared to life, warmth filling the cave easily.

"How did you do that with blue shaking fingers?" He asked, sounding as offended as he was incredulous.

She hesitated, warming her hands by the flames. "My relatives used to make me sleep outside, if it wasn't snowing or raining that is." She finally told him. "I spent more time outside than I did inside. I either had to get really good at starting fires or freeze."

His face grew very cold at her words, cold as the snow and ice. "I could have them put to death." He suggested, and his tone showed that he was serious.

She shook her head. "I'm from Border, the village that is. They are not in your jurisdiction, but thank you for the offer."

He didn't argue, but his eyes showed that his murderous intent wasn't lessened by the fact that she was from across the wall. His eyes reflected the firelight, turning them a deep flickering ruby. He was silent for a moment, setting up some food, and Holly once again bemoaned the fact that Buckbeak had run off with her food, but she didn't dare ask to share his. The man had already been kind to her and she didn't need to be greedy. Not to mention it might have meat. The cave was soon filled with a lovely scent, and he stood. He took off his cloak, but once he started pulling off his shirt she instantly turned away, face red as the garnets on her daggers, which had been in the pack she'd dropped.

"What are you doing?" Her voice sounded high, shrill, and embarrassed.

"Trying not to get ill." He said with a soft smile. "You needn't be so shy, you'll have to take yours off or you'll get sick. We need to dry them off."

"I'll be fine. I don't have clothes to change into." Holly sniffed, and he snorted inelegantly. She turned around only to see he'd removed everything. Squeaking, she turned around once again. "You're naked!" She exclaimed, impossibly redder.

"Come on, you have the same bits as I do lad, I'll let you borrow a blanket if you're so shy, but you'll catch your death if you don't get out of those wet clothes." He said.

"Will you wear one too?" She questioned.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes." A moment latter she felt a hand on her shoulder, and he said, "I'm covered now."

Sighing, she turned again and sure enough he had a blanket around his waist, his hand keeping it closed. His chest had a scar, and red faced she took the blanket from his hand. It was thick, soft, and black. Rolling his eyes he turned. Holly stripped off her clothes as fast as possible, but the leather was stiff and stuck to her skin. As soon as she'd removed everything she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, hiding her body from view. She cleared her throat and he turned, giving her an amused look when he saw her bundled up.

"Are all you northern boy's such prudes?" He teased.

She didn't answer. She just hung her clothes up by his and sat down by the fire. She snuck her hands out from under the blanket, and a few minutes later he sat by her, holding out a water pouch to her.

"Here." He smiled. "You look like you need it."

She took a few gulps, delighted to taste the same warm fruity drink from earlier, then passed it back to him. She tried not to be distracted by the way his throat bobbed when he drank. He was older than she was, a few strands of silver were scattered in his hair, old enough to be her father really. Still, he was very handsome, and strong. Not to mention that she was very much aware that he was naked under the blanket, naked as she was, and she'd seen everything because he didn't know she wasn't a boy like him. He didn't realize that his actions were indecent, though her perversion was doubly so.

He passed the drink back. "What is this anyways?" She asked.

"Pomegranate cider." He answered.

She tried not to show that she had no clue what a pomegranate was, and instead took another sip. Petunia had taught her not to ask questions. He stood and spooned some food into a small bowl, a stew or soup of some sort, and held it out to her.

"Oh, you don't have to, you're already being so kind." Holly said, but her stomach growled loudly.

"I have plenty." He insisted.

"It's just, I don't eat meat." She told him, getting ready to explain her aversion. To her surprise he chuckled softly and pressed the bowl into her hands.

"All life is sacred in the dark kingdom. We don't eat meat either." Her eyes widened at his gentle words. "This is just potatoes, carrots, onions, sage, and pepper. Nothing fancy but filling. I can't eat this much anyways." He handed her a biscuit and sat beside her with his own bowl and biscuit. "Eat." He commanded softly.

She thanked him. The stew was flavorful and warm, the biscuit was flakey and slightly sweet, and the pomegranate cider was deliciously spiced and sour-sweet. When she finished eating, warm and full for the first time since she left Border, she laid down near the fire, and fell asleep within seconds.

\--

She woke to hear soft humming, and sat up to see that the man had covered her in his blanket too. There was a pot on the fire full of deep blood red liquid, which was filling the cave with a sweet smell. The man was standing a few feet away, brushing the fur of a strange creature, like a horse but far too thin, with black wings like the dragons of old legends. He was still shirtless. She stood up and pulled the blankets around herself, stepping closer to the man and the creature.

"Sleep well?" He greeted.

She smiled. "Yes thank you." She turned to look at the creature. "What is that?"

"Who Dementor?" He gave her an odd look, as if he was confused that she didn't know what the creature was. "He's a Thestral. Do you not have them in the light kingdom?"

"No." She shook her head. "I've never seen something so magnificent. He's beautiful."

The man gently took her hand, pressing her hand to the soft fur of the creature, who gave a whiney like a regular horse. Awed, she took the brush when offered, and let him guide her hand through the motions of brushing Dementor.

He was standing right behind her, taller than she was, and she could hear his heart beating is his chest. Just as frantic as hers.

"I never caught your name." She said quietly after a moment.

He seemed to startle. "Oh, of course." He responded. "My name is Tom."

"It's nice to meet you Tom." She smiled.

"You know, you still haven't given me your name either." Tom pointed out, and she stiffened.

She couldn't tell him her name was Holly, but she hadn't thought of a name yet. "I - uh - Harry?" She stuttered out. Yes, that was a good name, one she could call herself. "Yep, Harry, That's my name!"

She was startled when he started to laugh. She looked over her shoulder at him with a questioning look, afraid she'd been caught. "Sorry." He began, still shaking, "It's just your name reminded me of a legend. The story Harrielle and the stars."

Turning around to face him fully, she smiled encouragingly. "Would you tell me the story?"

He nodded and met her gaze before speaking in a low and ominous voice.

\--

A long time ago, when the sky was a void and the land was bare, there were many deities, with many names lost to time, and each one had endless power, but none was so feared as Voldemort. He was death, keeper of the afterlife, a great white serpent with eyes of blood. He was feared for his cruelty, but he was alone. You see, the fear of death made everyone fear him, but Voldemort wanted the love the other gods had. He wished for an equal.

One day, an oracle spoke a prophecy into existence, of a mortal who would defy death, and destroy Voldemort. Voldemort felt fear for the first time ever, and he journeyed to kill the mortal, but no matter how he looked he couldn't find his vanquisher. It was on one such outing that Voldemort met Harrielle.

The legends don't remember what gender Harrielle was, just that they were blind, and that they were so beautiful that Voldemort fell in love with the mortal instantly. He visited the mortal often. All of the deities had the power to create, and for Harrielle he crafted the most beautiful gardens, though Harrielle had no eyes to see them with.

The other deities were furious. They found the love of Voldemort and Harrielle to be an affront to the natural order, and they asked the most powerful of all deities to strike him down. Harrielle was unable to see, but they were attuned to nature in ways no mortal had ever been before. They sensed the danger and pushed Voldemort out of the path, taking the lightning themself.

Grief destroyed Voldemort. He flew into a rage and slaughtered all the other deities, and their blood rained down upon the land and grew pomegranate trees where their divine blood soaked into the dirt and soil, but even the death of the others could not temper his grief.

Voldemort cried for Harrielle, and his frozen tears fell to the ground and covered everything in ice. The gardens withered and died, the creatures fell into a deep sleep, and the people starved and began to turn on one another.

Harrielle travelled the afterlife aimlessly. They fought many souls and many beasts, always searching for an escape. They wandered and fought until at last they stumbled upon the icy roots of a pomegranate tree, which they climbed up so that they could find Voldemort and return to him. Harrielle crossed the seven kingdoms until they found him at last, but when they got there they found a great lioness, the guardian of the gates to the afterlife Ginevera, who stood in their path.

The lioness Ginevera challenged Harrielle to a duel. If they could answer her riddle they could return and Ginevera would gift them her eyes. The riddle went like such. It lies inside a book, a ring, a cup, a crown, a necklace, a serpent, a bolt of lightning, and a heart. It can not be seen, nor touched. What is it?

Harrielle answered that A Soul was the only thing that resided in everything.

Ginevera gave Harry her eyes, as green as the gardens of Voldemort's creation, and let her pass back into the living realm. When Voldemort saw them he kissed Harrielle so passionately the remaining creation magic of the dead deities in the sky lit up like gemstones which would be called stars. He poured all of his creation magic into the land, thawing the ice and creating oceans, rivers, and lakes in it's place, but leaving some to remind the people of his rage.

He became mortal and lived a mortal life with her, and when he lay dying he told the people they would be reborn again one day, hundreds or thousands of years later, and that when he found Harrielle in the next life the stars would burn red and the ice would thaw as he took her and filled her with creation.

The dark kingdom formed upon the icy land so they would never forget, and they wait patiently for the return of Voldemort and Harrielle.

\--

When Tom finished his story, Harrry stared at him in open awe. The light kingdom had only one god, the phoenix, who was trapped in an endless loop of life and death, burning in the sky. They didn't have stories like the dark kingdom did.

"Wow." She eventually said. "I've never heard such a beautiful story."

Tom smiled. "The lore of the dark kingdom is all written in songs rather than stories, though I am happy to tell you more of our legends." He seemed to hesitate and then continued with, "The king of the dark kingdom calls himself Voldemort you know. No one remembers his name, and then here you are, beautiful and green eyed, calling yourself Harry. If the stars burned like rubies in the sky I would wonder if the legends were true, if the ice would melt under the heat if your passion." He brushes a warm finger across her cheek. Harry's face burned red as the boiling cider. Tom laughed. "I love how easy you blush."

She stomped away from him and called over her shoulder. "Turn around. I'm getting dressed."

"I don't think I will." He teased. "You've seen me naked after all, only fair."

She throws the brush at his head.

\--

Once Tom learned that her destination was Grimmauld, the same as him, he agreed to let her ride with him. They backtracked in the freezing snow on Dementor's back only long enough for her to find her pack, all her beloved items still inside, then they headed west again to the village.

The next three days were the same. They rode with her in front of him, walking instead of flying like she had feared and hoped they might in equal measure, with his heavy cloak pulled tightly around the two of them to keep her warm in her thin clothes. They stopped near the river for rest after eight hours, setting up camp, where she started the fire and he gave her food and blankets, then she would lie by the fire and dream of impossible things, mainly Tom kissing her.

The only difference was that she was fully dressed under the blankets, and she often woke up unbearably warm, with Tom breathing on her neck and pressed tightly against her. Every morning, despite the routine, she scrambled out of bed with a yelp, and he'd sit up, groggy, sword out, ready for danger only to realize that it was just her modesty, though Tom called it her prude northern sensibilities. If only he knew it wasn't her being prude, but cautious of him discovering her secret. It wasn't so much that she woke every morning in his arms, but that she was terrified he'd put his hands somewhere by accident and blow her whole plan before she could become a night. Or worry he'd touch her and she'd throw herself at him and prove herself to be a whore just as her uncle had always called her.

Once awake, Harry would start the fire again, or add more fuel if it was still going, and Tom would start heating up the pomegranate cider, which he'd put in water pouches that inexplicably stayed warm all day. They would eat a small breakfast and then pack up camp, and ride again, with the cider held under clothes for extra warmth in the cold south.

They reached Grimmauld by nightfall on the third day, and Tom paid for a room at an inn called the Leaky Pot, and Harry didn't even care when Tom claimed the first bath. She was already asleep.

\--

When she woke, it was still dark, but Tom was shaking her awake gently. "What's wrong? Is something the matter?" She mumbled.

"I have to leave before sunrise." He said, nudging her so he could climb into the bed. "I don't know when I will see you again, if I will see you again, but I can't let it end this way."

Confused she sat up. "End like what?"

Tom didn't answer with words, instead he grabbed her by the sides of her face and kissed her passionately. Harry's eyes flew open in shock, and the logical part of her said to push him away, to preserve her secret, but she'd been dreaming of this for days, so she threw herself into the kiss, returning it with as much passion as he put into it.

It didn't take long to get heated, and she hesitated only a little before removing her clothes for him, and was only a little surprised by his lack of surprise. Her insistence on keeping everything covered had been a pretty big giveaway in hindsight. It hurt when Tom took her virginity, for he was big and Harry had never even explored herself before, but the pain quickly gave way to pleasure.

The whole time they rocked in the bed it moaned and creaked in protest and Harry tried to be quiet because of the thin walls, but she couldn't help the sounds that spilled from her lips. Especially since Tom had no qualms about panting sweet words about how he would create the stars for her, or give up all the power of creation and immortality for her, referencing the beautiful legend of his deities against her skin. She came as he did, moaning his name as he bit down on her shoulder.

He made love to her two more times before he left, the first of which he took his time taking her apart and making her beg, and the second slow and gentle as they sat in the large tub soaking in warm water scented with pomegranate and sage.

He left with a lingering kiss and a promise to one day find her again, leaving her with a silver ring with an emerald meant for fingers much larger than hers on a delicate chain as a token, a physical representation of his promise.


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Minor animal injury, Violence, minor suggested non-con (This character dies and the comment is subtle)

Being in Grimmauld was both similar and vastly different from the life she'd had in Border. There were so many things that were different in the dark kingdom, or rather Walpurgis, which was the correct name for the kingdom. All seven kingdoms had names, a fact she'd known objectively, but she'd never known their names before. She had grown up calling the her birth-kingdom the light kingdom, when it was really called Lumos. She grew up calling Morsmodre the fire kingdom, Durmstrang the water kingdom, Beauxbatons the wind kingdom, Ilvermorny the stone kingdom, Hogsmeade the plant kingdom, and, of course, Walpurgis she had known as the dark kingdom.

Unlike the light kingdom, The Knights of Walpurgis accepted all genders into their ranks, despite what the light said of their army being evil. Harry had grown up so long in the north that she had been shocked to learn that in the kingdom of Walpurgis everyone was treated equally, no matter their gender. In the light kingdom, woman were treated with less respect than the men, so being in Grimmauld, with such open equality, was an odd but welcome experience.

She debated whether or not she should sign up for knighthood as a girl, but decided against it. The more she did to hide her identity, the less likely she could be dragged back to Border and left to the whorehouse. She'd already heard rumors of Lumosian knights searching for a girl from Border, and while it seemed unlikely to be her they were searching for, she couldn't afford to be wrong. Besides, no one even knew her as Holly anymore. They knew her as Harry, a boy from the north, and no one but Tom knew she was from Border. As far as Harry was concerned, Holly Dursley had died when her uncle sold her to the pleasure district to pay off his debts.

She had, in a way, been reborn. No one would ever know she was a girl, or that she had ever been anything other than a blacksmith's apprentice, a skill she'd gained when her cousin was meant to be in the forge two summers ago, with a blacksmith from the south, but he had bullied her into going so he could chase after the local girls. Harry didn't regret that experience because Barty had been kind to her, if a bit eccentric, and he'd paid her in coin, not just experience like Dudley would have been given. It hadn't been much, but it was that small wage that had helped her afford her stay in the inn, and the cider and food she'd been eating.

She wasn't sure she'd tire from the pomegranate cider, though she still had yet to see any of the pomegranates Walpurgis seemed to have in such abundance. It was said they grew closer to Slytherin, the capital, especially on the castle grounds where the knights trained.

She brushed her fingers across the ring with a soft smile. It was silly, perhaps, to believe the promise of a man she hadn't known even a week, to believe that she meant more to him than some fling. It had been stupid of her to give herself so freely, and yet she didn't regret anything. She hoped she was on his mind as often as he was on hers. She hoped he truly wished to find her again. It was stupid, but she was almost certain she'd fallen in love with him over those three days.

Four days after Tom left, two knights arrived in the village, and Harry gathered her few belongings and Tom's ring. She sat down at their table with a grin. "Hello sirs, My name is Hadrian Potter," she greeted, "what do I have to do to become a knight?"

\--

One became a knight in one of two ways. Either, they went the traditional route; in which they became a page at age ten, and then a squire at fifteen or sixteen. This was the process in the North, and they had no other option. The second route in which to become a knight of Walpurgis was through a duel with an existing knight. This was rarely done, because the knights of the realm were the finest in the seven kingdoms. Sirius had given her one piece of advice after she confessed her desire to leave the light Kingdom to become a knight for the dark, long before she had no choice in the matter, after he tried to convince her to stay; when up against a person with more experience, do not fight with honor. Fight to win. Fight to survive. She had kept that advice in all fights since she was thirteen, and she wouldn't let it fail her now.

The knight opposite of her was named Lucius Malfoy. He was tall and, though his features were concealed under the black and silver armor of a dark knight, she was willing to bet he'd be very pale, because his braided hair stuck out from under his helmet and it was the fairest blonde she'd ever seen. He favored his right, likely right handed and not trained to be ambidextrous, and his stance was standard, but he had taken time to spin his sword in a fancy and intimidating manor before he had taken proper stance, showing a boastful and prideful nature. This gave her an advantage. He would want to draw it out, to give the others a show. There was a flaw in the design of his armor, his neck was covered in chainmail. The perfect place to strike with a little misdirection.

In her right hand, Harry held the sword she'd borrowed from the other knight, this one she did not know a name for. It was heavy, sharp, and gleaming. This was nothing like holding sticks and trying to fight children in the village. This was life or death. She tried to copy his stance, but left the side opposite of the sword unguarded. An opening. Weakness.

He charged, going for her left side, and Harry flipped her sword so the blade was facing her, and drove the pomel into his throat. He gagged, stumbling back shocked that she had actually harmed him, and in doing so left himself unguarded. She grabbed him by the wrist with her left hand and drove her right elbow down. His armor was strong, but the force of her blow was stronger. She could tell by his scream that she'd broken or dislocated his arm. The sword dropped. Harry grabbed him by the braid and twisted, forcing him to his knees. He jerked back, slamming his head into her face, and she stumbled, tasting blood. She twisted his hair round his neck and held it as tight as she could until he tapped her arm with two fingers. Surrender. She let him go, and he caught himself on his hands and knees, gasping for air.

Slow clapping made her look up, where the other nameless knight was standing. "Good job lad." Said an almost familiar voice, "You'll make a fine knight, and perhaps, a good death eater with proper training."

Harry grinned with blood on her teeth, victorious.

\--

The ride from Grimmauld to Slytherin was colder than the ride from Border had been, mainly because they were heading deeper into the frozen lands. They had been traveling for three days, and we're a sixth of the way through their journey.

Lucius Malfoy was eccentric, to say the least. He was a Lord, rich and powerful even without the black armor, and while he had sulked and acted like an absolute asshole at first, he quickly warmed up to Harry once they found a common ground and he got over his pride. He was chatty, constantly filling their ride with commentary on his family, or complaining about the ride or the whether, or simply making conversation with Harry or the his companion.

By contrast, Regulus Black, brother to Sirius and the one who had given Sirius the useful advice about fighting that he'd shared with Harry, resulting in her winning the duel before Lucius could get his bearings enough to win, was a calm and reserved person. He didn't speak much, only occasionally, but he was an excellent storyteller. At nights, when they set up camp, Regulus would tell the best stories and sing the best songs. Some were legends, some were history, and some were just stories with no meaning beyond entertainment. Harry loved his stories.

There was a rustling sound, and Harry was quick to roll out of her blankets, the ones she had purchased alongside more weather appropriate clothes, her daggers gripped in her hands. Regulus and Lucius both had been teaching her while they camped or took breaks, and she was more confident about her ability to protect herself than ever before. Cautious, she followed the sound to a deer, a great huge magnificent beast with silvery moonglow eyes, black fur as dark as the night sky, and bone white antlers like the branches of an old tree, bleeding out into the dirt with an arrow stuck in its leg. It looked frightened when Harry approached, but she tried not to seem threatening.

"Hi there." She dropped down close. "You're beautiful."

Soothingly, she began to hum a song she had always known, but never remembered why she knew it or where she had heard it before, stroking the soft fur of the deer's neck with her gloved fingers. After a moment, the deer stopped its panicked thrashing and relaxed, just as she'd hoped it would. She had always had an uncanny ability to calm the most enraged people and animals with her songs, and she had always wondered if it might be magic, but it was a silly notion because everyone knew that only royals had magic. Harry was the farthest from royalty one could get.

Calmly, still using her voice to sooth, she removed her glove and felt around the wound. The deer stayed still and silent, watching her with intelligent eyes, wary but trusting. The wound itself was not that bad, a very clean strike, all Harry would have to do was pull the arrow out, apply some healing salve, and wrap its wound. It wouldn't feel very nice, but the deer would be safe and it's leg would heal.

Harry hummed the soft melody and pulled the arrow out as fast as she could. It jerked its head up, but its leg stayed still under her hands. The wound dripped with blood, red as pomegranates and, oddly, shimmery. Regulus had told her a story during that first night of Faerie animals, creatures born and raised in the fae realms, changed by their presence. She hadn't thought it to be true, but certainly she'd never seen such a creature before as the deer. It was the most beautiful creature she'd seen in fact. Still, faerie deer or not, it was no concern of hers, and someone was going to come for it, so Harry shook off her awe and dressed the wound, before helping the deer back to its feet.

"Hey!" She looked up to see an indignant fat balding old man with a bow and arrow. His leather and fur clothes made it pretty obvious that he was one of those bounty hunters she heard of. "Hey I shot the beast fair and square. I ain't losing out on my money 'cause of some soft touch faerie boy. Step away from the deer or I'll put an arrow in you too."

Harry gulped, a little fearful, but instead of stepping away she stood her ground. "It is forbidden to hunt in Walpurgis." She warned and, at his confused look, she specified, "The dark kingdom."

He spat on the ground. "Like that's gonna stop me." He sneered, and then he gave her a once over and smirked at her, "Tell you what faerie boy, it's been quite a bit since I last had a good lay, so how's about we make a deal then. It's your ass or that beastie, so either com'ere, or step away from that deer, but I ain't leaving without a wet cock or a guaranteed fortune in the North."

"Flattered," she lied deadpan, her utter disgust with his vulgarity was obvious, "but I'm afraid I'll have to decline. You want the deer, you're going to have to fight me."

"Two prizes for the price of one." He leered, and Harry suppressed a shudder. "You're choice faerie boy."

He started to reach for the knife at his belt, Harry started to hum an ominous haunting tune, and just as she expected he froze as if paralyzed. She had only used this tune once before, on her uncle when he had pulled a knife on her for accidentally setting a snake loose on her cousin. It had been just as terrifying then as now, and though they never mentioned it again, she had been aware of the fear it brought to her relatives because the next day they had moved her from the cellar to the house. She still was punished with less food and sleeping outside, but the punishments were less frequent after that incident. It had been nearly five years since she last sang this song.

She removed his knives, his quiver, and his bow, double checking for anymore weapons, before she twisted his neck around and he fell with a sickening thump. She stopped humming only after she checked for a pulse. It may have been cruel, but given his vulgar speaking she was probably doing more than one person a favor.

"What the fuck was that?"

Harry had the bow and arrow pointed at the speaker, ready to fire, before she'd even recognized the voice. She shot Regulus an apologetic smile before lowering the bow.

"A bounty hunter." She gestured to him. "He was being vulgar."

To her surprise he laughed. "No, not him, I followed you after you left. I meant that humming thing. How did you do that?"

Harry paled. She had never sung in front of anyone without there being a good reason. "I don't know what you're talking about." She said, pushing past the knight to escape.

The deer followed after her, and Harry stopped. "You saved him. His life is bound to yours as long as you live. He'll follow you everywhere." Harry blinked, then turned to face the knight nervously. Regulus smiled. "Don't worry about your gift, I won't tell anyone. I swear on my honor as a Knight. I don't care if you are fae or royal or just blessed. Your secret is safe with me."

"Thank you." Harry hesitantly returned his smile. She turned to the deer. "Well, if you must come, I think I shall call you Prongs."

\--

The rest of the long ride was much more pleasant, now that she had her own steed. Prongs had no trouble keeping up with the Thestrals, not even when the Knights took to the sky. It had surprised her when the deer had sprouted wings the first time, but then she had known he was a fae creature so the development was more shocking to Lucius, who had not been there to witness anything.

Fifteen days later, they finally arrived in Slytherin, with no more trouble on their journey. The castle was carved into the mountain face, gleaming striking black, covered in icy snow. The village seemed to take up every available space below the castle on the mountain, everyone seemed well fed, and just as she had heard the pomegranate trees grew like a forest up the mountainside, tended to be faeries like all crops were given the land was too frozen to be tended to without magical means.

When they arrived, the villagers greeted them with cheers and an abundance of food. They stared at her in awe, though Harry had no clue what she had done to deserve such regard. Neither Lucius nor Regulus seemed keen on sharing either, too amused by her discomfort. She wondered if it was because of Prongs.

It didn't matter. The next day she would be initiated into the life of a squire, to train as a knight until her eighteenth birthday. She'd earn their respect and their awe on her own merits. One day they might cone for her, and by then she needed to have enough respect that her fellow knights wouldn't sell her out.

\--

A sharp pain blossomed across her face as the hard wooden blade of a sword smacked her across the forehead and her vision turned red, not due to rage, but because blood spilled down into her left eye, stinging and startling in equal measure. The blow knocked her back several steps, and she felt the chain come undone from her neck.

"Nice little trinket Potter, your girlfriend give it to you?" Malfoy taunted, twisting Tom's ring in the light. "Think I'll keep it."

Harry narrowed her eyes. Draco Malfoy was nothing like his father, he was arrogant, sometimes cruel, and mostly a bully. He had gotten into the squireship because of his father. In the three weeks they had been training, Harry hadn't let herself get attached to anyone, and Malfoy had a particular grudge against her.

Still, he had given her the perfect opening.

"Give it back Malfoy!" She pretended to be much more angry than she really was.

He sneered. "How about you make me, Potter."

She charged at him with an angry roar. He laughed, overconfident, shifting his stance to catch her sword, which was exactly what she had intended. Last second, she dropped down to sweep his legs out from under him, and the blond went down with an affronted squawking sound. She took great pleasure in flipping herself over him, pressing his face into the mud as she grinned and held her wooden sword to his throat.

She deftly swiped Tom's ring from Malfoy's bruised fingers. "You shouldn't drop your guard so fast. Stop being so cocky." She advised, then got off Malfoys's back after ruffling his hair. He made an absolutely disgusted shout as she smeared more mud into his corn silk blond hair.

"You're a menace Potter!" Malfoy complained, trying unsuccessfully to wipe the mud off. His hair stuck up like the spines of an aggravated porcupine where she had smeared a handful of mud through it.

"And don't you forget it?" She winked, sauntering off to join the other squires laughing in the background.

"Enough!" Instant silence fell in the wake of Bellatrix's shout, the squires instantly forming a perfect line of serious knights to be. No one dared to disobey Bellatrix Lestrange. She was the strongest and fiercest knight in the realm. "Patil! Potter! Center Court, let's go!"

Harry pulled herself out of her musings and stepped forward with Patil, dropping onto her knee with her head bowed. She stood up before the knight stiff postured, hands behind her at the center of her back. "Sir."

Harry crossed the courtyard to the center field and exchanged a grin with the other girl. She took the proper stance, holding her wooden longsword up. Patil took a slightly different stance, favoring her right side given she'd twisted her ankle in an earlier duel with Nott. She could use that to her advantage.

Harry thought of the whore house, she thought of the life she was escaping, and she let her fingers brush the ring at her throat. She had to become the best. Harry let the cold numb overtake her, readjusting her grip on the sword.

When Patil rushed for her, Harry dodged the blow, spun around in the air, and brought the heavy wood of her practice sword slamming all their combined weight into the girl's already injured leg. She hit the ground with a sickening crunch and scream, clutching her leg. Harry didn't let her sorrow or guilt show, she simply pressed the wooden blade to the other girl's throat.

"Yield." She said in the same cold deadly voice in which Tom had offered to have her relative killed.

While Patil sobbed and nodded, the squires gave Harry horrified looks, and Bellatrix came behind her to grab her shoulder in a tight grasp, a bloodthirsty smile on her face. "Good boy." She said.

\--

The Patil incident left a lasting impression on her fellow squires. They started to call her The Basilisk, after a mythological serpent with the ability to turn anyone who met its gaze to stone. In the legends, when Voldemort killed the other deities, he trapped their undying souls into the bodies of cursed serpents, giant monstrous snakes, and if one met their eyes they would turn to stone for daring to meet the eyes of a deity. Likewise, her fellow squires liked to joke that every time they met her gaze in training exercises, they too would turn to stone, paralyzed by sheer terror. Harry was quickly gaining a reputation for being ruthless, clever, and, when the occasion called for it, downright cruel. Harry thought of her songs and found the nickname to be rather apt.

She pretended it didn't hurt, the way the others avoided her whenever possible, but it was for the best. Harry didn't need friends. She just needed their respect. She needed to be the best. For herself, for Tom. She missed him. She missed him more than anything. How could one short meeting affect her so thoroughly? She wanted to see him more than anything. To be able to one day meet Tom once more, to be able to stand before King Voldemort and ask for his permission to court a woodsmen or merchant like Tom seemed to have been, without facing repercussions for them both being men, Harry needed to become a knight.

\--

"Hey Potter!" Harry looked up from where she had been polishing her armour to see Malfoy coming towards her. "Father said to give this to you?"

Curious she took the small box from him, and she blinked when she noticed it held a thick cloak, black as the void lined with deep emerald green. It had a silver clasp in the shape of a snake coming from the mouth of a skull.

"This is a Death Eater cloak." She said, awed, running her gloved fingers over the fabric. "Why did he give me a Death Eater Cloak?" She muttered, opening the letter attached.

Malfoy looked livid. "Congrats Potter," he spat, "You've been accepted as my father's apprentice. It should have been me."

Harry laughed, she couldn't help it. "It's not his gift." At the surprised look on Malfoy's face she held up the letter, an invitation into the Death Eater Apprenticeship, which was signed by Regulus Black. "I'll see you in the courtyard at four on Monday. I'm sure that you'll be your father's choice. He talks about nothing except how proud he is, you know. You shouldn't worry so much, you are a git but your father is proud, even if he forgets to show you."

Suspiciously, Malfoy had tears in his eyes. "Thanks, Harry."

She blinked. "You're welcome, Draco."

And with that, Harry gained her first friend among the squires. It was strange that a friend and an invitation to join the most elite of King Voldemort's knights would be her first birthday presents since she left Border.

Harry held the ring in her hands. Soon she would become a knight. Soon, she could find him. It was only a matter of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, Sorry it's late. Not gonna lie. I didn't post this on time because I decided to watch all three back to the future movies twice and read mammet fanatics instead. And then I had work. But Its here and that's got to count for something? Sorry to those who were expecting the update on the 30th.
> 
> Warning: There will be a large time jump going into next chapter. Be warned.


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